Riding Shotgun with Werewolves
by Captain Arianna Trouble
Summary: Stiles ends up in a Jeep with no brakes and no way out, which means he has to call Derek for help.


Riding Shotgun with Wolves

Disclaimer: I do not own _Teen Wolf_.

A/N: Takes place post-season 1 finale, but really doesn't spoil anything. Might expand this later if the mood strikes.

Stiles had always loved roller coasters. The speed, the height, the pure rush of adrenaline that, prior to Scott's wolf stuff, he rarely got to experience in Beacon Hills. Until today.

Today, someone had decided to cut the brakes on his Jeep. His _baby_. Worse, they had messed with the rest of the engine so that it just kept speeding up, meaning Stiles was left skidding around corners as he tried to get away from busy intersections. The only advantage he had was knowing where all the speed traps in town were, which was fortunate because he really, really, _really_ didn't want to have to explain to his dad why he was careening around town at 20 miles over the speed limit.

Phone in hand, Stiles quickly thumbed through his contacts to S, where Scott's was the first name present. One tap to the screen later and he would be saved.

Unless…

"Please don't be with Allison, please don't be with Allison," Stiles muttered under his breath as the phone rang.

"Stiles? Why are you-?" As usual, his best friend turned werewolf sounded confused.

"Scott, I need your help. I-" But before he could even launch into his discombobulated story, Scott was speaking.

"Dude, I have a kind of big problem here with Allison." _Dammit_. "Can it wait?"

"No, because I just turned into Sandra Bullock a la _Speed_!"

"What?"

"Movie night later, but-" Out of nowhere, an intersection appeared that Stiles hadn't planned on. Another car was making a right turn, directly into his path. Grabbing the steering wheel with both hands, the phone and his lifeline fell to the floor of the Jeep. By the time he regained control and could risk ducking down to grab the phone, the call had been lost. Redialing showed that Scott, the ever reliable friend, was sending his calls straight to voicemail.

"Great, just great," Stiles muttered. Looking at the phone, he could think of only one other option. He went down to E in his contacts, where EMERGENCY ONLY, YOU IDIOT marked the number he wanted. With a gulp, he hit CALL.

"What?" The phone had rung only once before being answered.

"Hey, Derek." Stiles cringed at the way his voice cracked. "Someone cut my brakes and I can't slow down and Scott's with Allison and I'm gonna crash and die and _please help me_?"

"Where are you?" It was almost annoying how calm the Alpha werewolf sounded. Like this was an everyday occurrence.

"I'm headed north on…" Stiles looked for a street sign. Years of ride-alongs with his dad had helped him memorize most of the streets in Beacon Hills, so he was able to quickly splutter his location. He was also able to realize that he was headed further out of town, towards the woods where there'd be more bends to maneuver. "Derek…"

"Keep heading north. I'm on my way."

"On your -? Wait, do you have a plan? Please, God, say yes."

"I have a plan. Now shut up and keep your eyes on the road." Over the phone, Stiles could faintly hear the revving of another engine.

A few minutes passed as Stiles waited for the older man to say something else but nothing came. As the silence carried on, the road before Stiles became more winding and other cars less frequent. It was getting to the point where he could no longer be sure where exactly he was anymore before he tried to speak to Derek again.

"Are you…Are you going to tell me your plan? Because I kind of need to be in the know right about now-"

"Shut. Up. Can you follow directions?"

"Yeah, but forgive me for panicking a little-Oh my _God_." Seemingly out of nowhere, a sleek black car passed him on the road.

"Follow me," Derek ordered. "We're going to find some hills."

Like lightning, Stiles figured out Derek's thinking. "Inclines might slow me down."

"Exactly. That's part one."

"There are parts?"

"Two."

"What's the second?"

"You're not going to like it."

"Oh God-"

"Just _trust_ me, alright? You'll live."

Sure enough, Stiles did not like it. He did not even know it but he didn't like it because they were driving further away from town and into the darkness of God knows where and his Jeep was not slowing down enough to keep from continually hitting the back of Derek's bumper and –

"Stiles, get ready."

"For _what_, exactly?"

"Take off your belt."

"Take off my – What is going on?" Even as he questioned the order, Stiles began unbuckling from his seat. Ahead of him, the black car disappeared onto a side road that was almost invisible in the dark. "Where are you going?"

"To get further ahead of you. Now, listen _carefully_," Derek said, the same way someone might tell a small child not to spill their milk while making cereal. "Make sure you keep the Jeep headed straight. There is a nice, flat stretch of road ahead and we'll only have one shot at this."

"Shot. At. What."

"You're going to climb on the roof-"

"Of the _car_?"

"And you're going to jump off-"

"God, no."

"And I'll catch you."

"There is so much that can go wrong with that plan! There has to be-"

"There isn't, Stiles, trust me. I've been thinking of alternatives this whole time. Unless you want to crash, you will jump. But we have to do it now." The final word was more a growl than anything, and Stiles decided that if he was going to die anyway he might as well go out in grander style than the average teen car crash.

Saying a quick prayer for the steering wheel to remain still, Stiles gingerly pulled his feet away from the broken pedals and onto the seat. His driver's side window was already down and, for the first time, seemed incredibly big. Phone in hand, Stiles pulled himself out and up before his mind and little remaining sanity could object. He stayed crouched down, fighting the wind to keep a semblance of balance. Just as Derek had promised, the road was very long and straight. Trees blurred all around him and just ahead he could make out a slightly metallic dot that had to be Derek's car.

"I'm on the roof," he said, triumph in his voice.

"I see that," Derek answered, sarcasm in his. "Now when I tell you to jump, you have to do it. No questioning. You question, you die. Timing is everything."

"Got it." Stiles gulped. "I mean, it's not that hard. Jump off the roof of your sabotaged car into the arms of a werewolf. No reason to question that logic at all."

"Just a few seconds now."

"Oh God-"

"NOW."

For a moment, Stiles felt the world slow down. One of those crazy adrenaline things, he knew, but he couldn't help but marvel at it as he stood atop his car for the first (and last) time. All of it lasted less than a second, but at the back of his head he couldn't help but think how he had always wanted to car surf and he was actually doing it-

And then there was the asphalt hurtling towards his face and death and he hoped he'd see his mom's face first and -

"Ouch."

Just like that, Stiles wasn't dying. Instead, he was face to face with a partially wolfed-out Derek Hale. Feeling a little awkward about their sudden closeness, he turned to see his Jeep exploding in a truly spectacular fashion against a guardrail and some trees further up the road.

"It worked. Ha, it worked!" Stiles would have hugged Derek, but seeing that Derek was still holding him (although no longer with claws) it would have been redundant. "You can, uh, let me go now."

"No, I can't." Again, the Alpha's voice was thick with annoyance.

"Why?"

"Look down."

Apparently, the plan hadn't worked out perfectly. At the bottom of Stiles's pants, one shoe was pointed forward while the other was pointed backwards. Not good.

"Why doesn't it hurt?"

"Probably because you're in shock."

"Can't you put me in your car then, take me to the hospital?"

"I can't move. Not until I heal," Derek said after moment of silence. For the first time, Stiles realized that, when Derek caught him, they must have collided with his parked car. The parked car that now had a small dent on it, the same size as a certain Alpha.

"Oh." A wave of guilt washed over Stiles. "I'm sorry."

And there goes Derek with one of those looks that makes Stiles feel like he's an alien lifeform being examined again. Like the older man had never had someone apologize to him before. In fact, Stiles realized, he hadn't even thanked Derek for saving his life. Again.

"Um, this is going to sound weird, but thank you," Stiles said quietly. Even though they were the only two people around for miles, he felt like this had to be secret. "You didn't have to save me and get hurt and stuff."

"Yes I did." Derek responded.

For once in his life, Stiles had nothing to say. With only the lights of the stars and the fire from his car, he studied Derek's face. It could have been from the shadows, but there wasn't a single trace of the usual scowl on his lips. Of course, he wasn't smiling either, but it was a new expression that Stiles hadn't seen before. It was almost vulnerable.

"So," he finally sputtered, unable to take the quiet any longer, "why's your healing taking so long? Did you break your tailbone? Get it, because you're a wolf with a tail-"

And that's when Derek dropped him onto the pavement.

"I was kidding! Please, don't leave me here. My leg's starting to hurt." It was a lie, but it got the werewolf to turn around.

"We're going to need a story for the hospital." Derek effortlessly pulled Stiles back up and maneuvered him into the front seat of his car.

"And my dad."

"You could always tell him the truth.

"Are you out of your mind? The _truth_?"

"That you were trying to car surf," Derek said quietly as he started up the car.

Stiles smiled. As much as Derek still scared him, he was beginning to see human side of him more and more.

"So, shall we listen to the radio?" A growl. "Never mind, then." So much for friendship and rainbows.


End file.
